


Dinner and a Movie

by Seascribe



Category: due South
Genre: Cooking, Multi, OT3, Seduction, first-time
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-24
Updated: 2013-01-24
Packaged: 2017-11-26 19:12:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,878
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/653508
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Seascribe/pseuds/Seascribe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Benton has no reason to think anything in Chicago has changed during his absence.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dinner and a Movie

**Author's Note:**

> Big thanks to Luzula for the above and beyond audio beta. Written for the prompts covet, loss, family.

Each month, Benton received an irregular but nonetheless gratifying flow of postcards and phone calls from Chicago, bringing welcome news of his Rays and their family and friends. Francesca was thriving at the Police Academy, Ray Kowalski's parents had put down stakes in Skokie, Elaine Besbriss had received her first commendation. To all appearances, things in Chicago continued on more or less exactly as they had been when Benton left.

"You should come visit sometime," Ray Vecchio said at the end his most recent phone call. "There's always a bed for you down here." Benton thought of the familiar guest-room in the house on Octavia Avenue and smiled. Phone calls and postcards were all very well, but perhaps he was overdue a visit back to Chicago. 

When Benton called to let Ray Kowalski know that he was taking Ray Vecchio up on his offer, and would Ray like to spend some time together while he was in town, Ray had laughed and said, "It'd be pretty hard to avoid it, Fraser. See you soon!" Benton smiled fondly at Ray's idiosyncratic way of expressing his enthusiasm. 

So Benton packed his rucksack and got on the first of three planes that would take him to Chicago, anticipating two weeks of eating Mrs Vecchio's excellent cooking and playing games of pick-up basketball with Ray Vecchio, of watching hockey on Ray Kowalski's couch and going with him to the boxing ring to help with the mentoring program. Perhaps Ray and Ray might even declare a truce for long enough that Benton could have the pleasure of spending time with both of them together. 

*  
Benton hadn't arranged to have anyone pick him up at the airport. He worried that an attempt might engender accusations of favouritism, and in any case, he rather enjoyed the walk into the city. Dief complained, but that was to be expected.

"You're about to spend two weeks being shamefully indulged in as many donuts as you can beg," Benton told him sternly. "A brisk fifteen kilometer hike will do you good." 

So when Benton walked into baggage claim, he was pleasantly surprised to find both Ray Kowalski and Ray Vecchio waiting. He received a tight hug from Ray Vecchio and a friendly punch on the shoulder from Ray Kowalski.

"Ray! Ray! You really needn't have troubled yourselves, Diefenbaker and I were fully prepared to walk."

Ray Kowalski scowled at him. "Exactly. Which is why we're here. Now c'mon, let's go bust the wolf out of baggage claim."

They had come in Ray's Buick Riviera--"the fourth and final one, do you hear me, Benny?"--and Ray Kowalski graciously ceded the passenger seat to Benton, after a stern admonition to Dief to keep his tongue to himself. 

Ray and Ray told him about the cases that have passed their desk at the 27th--"There was one with a mime, Frase, you would've loved it,"--and bickered cheerfully over the details. Benton had missed them both so much, in those long cold months up north. He had missed Ray Vecchio's casual physical affection, his steadfast loyalty, his solicitude disguised as teasing. He had missed Ray Kowalski's blinding smiles, his reckless courage, his unstinting emotional generosity. What on earth had Benton been thinking, to leave all of that behind? 

*  
Ray Vecchio parked in the alley behind Ray Kowalski's apartment and opened the Riviera's trunk so Benton could collect his bags. Benton had rather been expecting to be invited to dinner at the Vecchio house and to sleep there as well. But Ray's couch was by no means uncomfortable--at least not when compared to Benton's cot at the Consulate--and pizza, after two days of airport food and months before that of nothing that Benton couldn't cook on the woodstove, sounded perfectly appealing. And he was glad of the opportunity to spend more time uninterrupted with the two of them.

Ray Vecchio had a key to the apartment door, and it was absurd for Benton to feel jealous of that. Of course Ray and Ray were partners and apparently even friends, and Benton had forfeited his right to feelings of resentment or jealousy when he decided to stay in the north. And wasn't this, after all, what he had hoped for, friendship between his two dearest friends? 

"You got everything you need, Vecchio?" Ray asked, flipping on the stereo. He put on a CD, some sort of smooth jazz that made even Benton itch to move to its beat. Ray Vecchio was in the kitchen, pulling items out of the refrigerator. 

"Where did you hide the parmesan?" he said. "And the garlic? What did I tell you about moving stuff, huh?" 

"It was in the way!" Ray called back. "I have a _system_ , Vecchio!" 

"Evidently I'm just not crazy enough to understand it," Ray muttered. He found the garlic and began smashing it expertly with a broad bladed knife. "Put the water on to boil, will you? And find the parmesan!" 

"Is there anything I can do?" Benton asked, while Ray Kowalski filled up a large copper bottomed pot, salted it liberally, and set it on the burner. 

"Yeah," Ray Vecchio said. "Sit down and wait to be fed, you're a guest." Benton obeyed, deciding not to point out that Ray was also technically a guest in the apartment and yet was doing the cooking.

Parmesan located, Ray Kowalski began washing vegetables and then moved on to measuring out the linguine and pouring oil into a skillet to heat. He and Ray Vecchio didn't share the kitchen space smoothly, exactly--Ray Vecchio accidentally knocked one of the zucchini onto the floor, so that it had to be washed again, and Ray Kowalski bumped into him when they both tried to add the linguine to the water as it came to a boil. But they looked...comfortable. It reminded Benton a little of navigating the chaos of the Vecchio house on Sunday mornings or of grocery-shopping with Ray Kowalski.

And then Ray Kowalski put his hands on Ray Vecchio's hips to hold him in place as Ray stepped around him to grab the colander, and Benton realised that he had understood only part of the picture. Ray Vecchio's eyes went dark, and Ray Kowalski's answering smile was sweet and lustful. Benton looked quickly down at his hands. 

They couldn't have meant for him to see how things were between them; if they had wanted him to know, they would have told him, would have at least hinted in their postcards and phone calls. The ugly flush of jealousy was back, this time mingled with a sharp sense of hurt. Benton had wanted--desperately--that same sense of intimacy and comfort from each of them in their turns, but it had never been offered, and he had considered their friendships far too high a price to pay for rejection. Perhaps that was why they hadn't told him. Perhaps they had known what he had wanted after all, and now they were trying to be kind. 

"Benny. You okay?" 

Benton smiled broadly. It made his cheeks hurt. "Yes, of course. Dinner smells delightful." 

Ray Kowalski set the plates down with a violent rattle. "I told you this plan was stupid, Vecchio." 

"Hey, it worked on you!" Ray retorted. They weren't making any sense. Benton cringed under the force of their combined gaze and wondered if it mightn't be best to make a break for it. He could stake a lean-to in Grant Park for the night, if need be. 

But Ray Vecchio tossed down the block of parmesan cheese he'd been grating and hooked his foot around one of the other kitchen chairs, dragging it over so he could sit down facing Benton.

"Listen," he said, leaning forward with his forearms braced on his thighs. "We did this wrong, okay? We weren't trying to hurt you or make you feel bad or anything like that."

"Of course not, Ray!" Benton knew that neither of them would do such a thing intentionally. "I'm grateful for--for--" He gestured helplessly at the makings of the meal spread out on the counter. 

"Fraser," Ray Kowalski said, and he'd come up behind Benton, put his hands on the back of the chair. "Say somebody brings you home. And they put on do-me music and cook you a fantastic homemade meal and there's wine--well, we got you milk, but there is wine--and those fancy Italian cannon things for dessert. Say they even get this old documentary about the Klondike because it looks like something you'd like. What do you think is going on there, Benton-buddy?" 

Benton swallowed. 

"That would depend on several factors, Ray, such as our previous level of acquaintance and this hypothetical person's established relationship status." They couldn't possibly be offering what this sounded like they were offering. It was a mistake or a misunderstanding or even a hallucination. "But I would most likely assume it was simply the considered and thoughtful hospitality of a friend."

"Which is where we fucked up," Ray Vecchio said. He stood up, taking two quick strides so that he was between Benton's knees. Benton tried reflexively to push his chair back to maintain his personal space, but Ray Kowalski was a solid barrier behind him. "Listen, Benny, let me show you in no uncertain terms what we're offering, okay? And then whatever you want, that's what happens next. You want to pretend it never happened, nothing changes. We'll just eat our linguine and then I can take you back to the house and make up the guest bed for you, and I promise we're both still here for you, like always." 

Ray Kowalski's thumbs rubbed along the superior portion of Benton's trapezius muscles. "Partners no matter what, Fraser," he said. Benton nodded.

Ray Vecchio's fingers were warm again Benton's jaw, tipping his chin up, and his kiss was sweet and a little tentative and tasted faintly of sun-dried tomatoes. Behind them, Ray Kowalski breathed out a small sigh, continuing to trace soothing patterns along Benton's shoulders with his thumbs. 

"You're calling the shots now, Benny," Ray Vecchio said. "Whatever you want, _capisci?_ "

Benton took a deep breath. "Is there a limit on the duration of this offer?"

Benton's first clear memory of seeing the Northern Lights was one of being so dizzied by their loveliness that he had had to sit down, right there in the snow. That feeling was the closest he could think of to describe the way he felt now, as an expression of unmitigated joy bloomed across Ray Vecchio's face, and above him, Ray Kowalski said, "For as long as you want us, Fraser." 

"Forever sounds about right, I think," Benton said, tipping his head back to smile giddily up at them. 

"Well, that was easy," Ray Vecchio said. "You're a real cheap date, huh, Benny? Already on the til-death-do-us-part bit, and we didn't even have to wine and dine you first." 

"I would hate for you to think I didn't appreciate your efforts at seduction," Benton said, in his best and most insincere imitation of earnestness. "And it would be a shame to let such a fine meal go to waste." 

"It'll reheat just fine," Ray Kowalski said. "C'mon, let's go consummate this thing."


End file.
